


slam slam oh hot damn (what part of party don't you understand?)

by reinventweather (theadmiral)



Category: Glee
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Near Future, oh god so fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theadmiral/pseuds/reinventweather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine just wants a lazy Saturday before his classes start. Kurt has other plans. Set post-McKinley after Kurt has graduated NYADA; Blaine's in his final year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	slam slam oh hot damn (what part of party don't you understand?)

**Author's Note:**

> for [candidlily](http://candidlily.tumblr.com), as it is based on her lovely prompt of "shopping, one of them has a planner" which is absolutely not a reference to [anything](http://archiveofourown.org/works/244861). there is no shopping (lol oops) but there is talk of shopping? i want to be sorry about the title, but i'm really not (and plus eames would be proud).
> 
> happy early birthday, dear. all my love!

Blaine can hear the morning before he opens his eyes: cars honking, people shouting, that one damn persistant bird that has woken Blaine up every morning for the past month. He flops over, intending to bury his head in the crook of Kurt's neck, but the other side of the bed is cool. Blaine sighs before rolling out of bed and padding out of their (their! It's been a month, but that word is still a novelty) bedroom toward the kitchen, the smell of coffee spurring him forward.

Turning the corner, Blaine finally finds Kurt. He's wearing lounge pants and one of Blaine's old baseball t-shirts, leaning against the island and making notes on something that appears to be very colorful. His brow is creased, clearly concentrating hard on whatever it is he's working on. Blaine slides up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and hooking his chin over Kurt's shoulder.

"Come back to bed," Blaine murmurs, pressing a small kiss to the base of Kurt's neck. Kurt leans back against him, and Blaine can feel Kurt's muscles relax, just slightly. 

"Can't," Kurt replies. "You can't either. The day's booked." It takes Blaine a second to realize what Kurt is talking about, but even then, that doesn't explain why they can't have an enthusiastic round (or two) of morning sex. 

"Come on, it's not really a house-warming party," Blaine protests. "It's just Rachel and Santana and some people from NYADA, a couple people from Vogue. Adam's bringing his new guy. Steve?" That name doesn't sound right to Blaine, but they've met a lot of Adam's boys over the past three years. Ever since they got past the whole... thing, they've actually spent a lot of time hanging out with Adam. It was weird at first, especially when Blaine first moved out to New York, but now he's one of their best friends. It's nice to have gay friends that aren't trying to break them up so they can date one of them. Another perk about New York City.

"Stefon," Kurt adds, shaking his head. "And they're not dating. Stefon is a friend who, and I quote, 'is trying to not be so hung up on this guy he works with.'"

"So they're fucking?"

"So they're fucking." Kurt pauses, making a final flourish on the page in front of him. "This is our schedule today; your tasks are in the green. Make sure you follow the time slots, some of the stuff won't be ready until later." Blaine sighs against Kurt. He knows this house-warming party is important to him, especially since Rachel blew up at Kurt for abandoning her to the merciless Big Apple, to be living alone in desperation, as she tells it (never mind Santana, who had never really moved out). 

"Can't I just throw on sweats and run down to the bodega? No one will care what kind of wine we'll be drinking, or whether we have monogrammed cupcakes." Blaine can feel Kurt's shoulders tense underneath him. 

"Hey, hey, I'm just kidding," Blaine says, turning him around. "I mean, I'm not, I would be perfectly happy with cheap wine and microwave nachos, but I'm all about making you happy, it's like my number one life goal, so fancy cupcakes and expensive alcohol it is."

Kurt's eyes go soft at that, and the corners of his mouth turn up. "You know I just want tonight to go well. It's the first time we'll ever host something together, in our place, just the two of us." Blaine smiles at that and leans in to kiss Kurt. Kurt presses back, steady and sure, and it would be so easy for Blaine to open his mouth a little, whine into Kurt's mouth, and grind his hips against him, derailing the whole conversation. But he doesn't, because Kurt wants him to go shopping and then probably clean the apartment, even though it hasn't had enough time to get messy yet - they've only finished unpacking. 

Blaine pulls back first, arms still wrapped around Kurt's waist, and catches Kurt smiling even before he opens his eyes. That, right there, that's what makes the whole day of running around worth it. Blaine gives Kurt one more peck before pulling away and making his way back to the bedroom. 

"How long do I have to get dressed?" he asks, half in jest. It takes Kurt a second to reply, and when Blaine looks back, he catches Kurt staring at his ass and blushing. Blaine gives it a little shake and can't help the grin that spreads across his face.

"Ten minutes, and wipe that smirk off your face, Blaine Anderson. And don't think ten minutes means that sweatpants or any type of clothing made from fleece is acceptable."

"Yes, darling," Blaine says, disappearing into the bedroom.

"And if you leave this apartment wearing those hideous Ugg boots, I swear to God I'm changing the locks!" Blaine can hear Kurt cry out from the other room. Blaine smiles again; he's pretty convinced he could leave the apartment wearing only his Ugg boots, and Kurt still wouldn't kick him out.

Plus, he's caught Kurt wearing them once or twice on the coldest of nights. But no one else needs to know that.


End file.
